


Hounds of Love

by Misslethwaite



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, Implied Foxxay, Magic 101: Don't read magic books out loud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 13:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16577699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misslethwaite/pseuds/Misslethwaite
Summary: "I found a Foxx, caught by dogs, she let me take her in my hands..." - 'What would it take to teach the girls not to read incantations aloud from foreign spell books.'





	Hounds of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Another 2014-esque Foxxay one-shot from my lil' archive.  
> This time based on the song Hounds of Love by Kate Bush.  
> I may have taken the lyrics a little too literally...  
> This could have been much darker, but I refused to let my muse go down that route. At least with this one.

The snap of branches and broken twigs was so much closer than either of them had anticipated. With only the moonlight in the sky above for guidance, it wasn’t possible to judge just how long they had been out there for.

“C’mon Cordelia, they’re comin’ straight for us!” Misty pulled at the other blonde’s hand again, who hobbled slightly with the unexpected strength. If the swamp witch pulled any harder, she was sure her arm would be wrenched from its socket.

“I know, I know!” Cordelia called back through her panted breath and berated her own lack of fitness in comparison to her younger counterpart. Although to be fair, she had never anticipated that she would ever really have to run for her life like this. “I really should enchant the lock on that damned cabinet.” She grumbled to herself. What would it take to teach the girls not to read incantations aloud from foreign spell books? And now she was being chased by three very large, very ravenous demonic looking hounds with what could only be described as thin, vaguely heart-shaped faces. To make matters worse, Misty hadn’t even been involved until the beasts had cottoned on to her scent as much as Cordelia’s own from the shawl the headmistress had been in the process of returning. In a bid to provide a distraction whilst the other girls figured out a way to return the hounds from whence they came, Cordelia and Misty had led them away from the academy but had underestimated their stamina – and perhaps overestimated their own – and so the beasts refuse to let up.

“We’ve gotta keep runnin,’” Misty implored again as Cordelia fumbled with her shoes. Perhaps Misty had the right idea, barefoot as she was. She didn’t have long to consider it though, when the gnashing of teeth and snarls became so much louder. Cordelia vaguely heard the familiar cajun voice as it told her not to let go as the world tilted alarmingly in a swirl of deep colours, over and over.

A dull ache registered in Cordelia’s mind, although she could not tell the point of origin; below her lay damp earth and above she felt an unusual weight as whatever it was pressed down on her abdomen and kept her arms pressed down at her sides. She gave a quiet moan and hoped that the hound would finish her quickly so she wouldn’t have to feel too much.

“Sshh.” The familiar voice startled her from her silent plea and she opened her eyes – when had she closed them? – and saw the weight on top of her was no bloodthirsty lovehound from hell but rather a wild-eyed Misty Day, covered with mud and breathing just as hard as Cordelia. The woman certainly had stamina, but even her adrenaline had a limit. “I think they’re gone…” Misty whispered, although she did not let go of Cordelia, did not move from where the two of them lay. Cordelia couldn’t help but wonder if beneath the dirt, Misty could have seen the scarlet blush that rose in her cheeks as her heart beat so very fast. If she told herself enough times that it was just the adrenaline, she might have believed it.

“How do you know?” Cordelia breathed as she looked up at the swamp witch. If she hadn’t been holding the headmistress to the ground, she may have shrugged.

“I don’t.” Came the honest reply, although it was not the most comforting that Cordelia wanted to have heard. The pace of her heart refused to slow down as her thoughts drifted this way and that. On the one hand she couldn’t deny the reprieve of not having hounds at her heels for a few moments, but on the other the thought of those same demonic dogs running rampant was just as bad.

“So they could come back.” She said quietly, with an awkward swallow. They both knew what she really meant. The dogs had their scent, had tracked them so far, they wouldn’t give up so easily if they were still around. They will come back.

“Worryin’ ain’t gonna help us.” Misty replied with a confidence that Cordelia wished she had herself. Her eyes looked about her as she tried to make sense of their muddy and dim surroundings and her brow furrowed in confusion.

“What happened?” It was a simple enough question and Cordelia could have sworn that underneath the mud and sweat, it was Misty’s turn to look awkward.

“Ah, yeah, that’s kinda my fault.” The Cajun admitted, a little embarrassed. “Didn’t look where I was goin’ and when I started fallin’ so did you. Don’t ya just hate hills in the dark?” Immediately Cordelia was gripped with concern.

“Are you ok?” Cordelia asked. “You’re not hurt are you…” But before the headmistress could continue, Misty shook her head.

“Wait…” Misty whispered and refused to let Cordelia object. Her hands gripped that much tighter around the older woman’s wrists. “Be quiet.” She hissed as the something snapped to the left of where they lay. There was a wet, snuffling sound. Cordelia’s eyes widened. One of the hounds had found them. “Don’t. Move.” Misty murmured although Cordelia felt the younger woman’s arms tremble where she held herself up. She watched the rapid rise and fall of the cajun’s chest and hoped she was not about to see it stop. Misty looked almost feral as she lay above her, face streaked with mud, hair in disarray and eyes like steel. Every moment, the hound stepped closer and seemed to prolong the inevitable. The very stench of the animal thickened the air.

Then it stopped. A howl from the distance, a howl of pain ceased the creature’s movements. Then there came another, much closer, again in agony. And at last the one so very close to them joined the cacophony until almost as abruptly as they had begun, the howling trio faded into silence. Misty looked down at Cordelia again and the mutual relief was easy to find. They’re gone.

With a sigh, Misty let go of the tension in her trembling arms and dropped onto Cordelia who gave a quiet ‘oof’ of surprise. With the panic and predators finally over, the pair of them were overcome with the exhaustion they had been avoiding. Well aware they should have found their way back up the hill and back to the academy, Cordelia couldn’t find it in herself to want to. As comforting as a warm bath, a warm bed and a dry change of clothes seemed, she wasn’t quite ready to move the woman who had laid to rest on top of her. Misty had followed her without question, kept her going when she didn’t think she could go any further, and in the very presence of what would have been a very nasty way to go kept herself between Cordelia and the beast. She couldn’t blame the witch for being tired. With a mumbled apology, Misty wriggled and was about to move herself away from the headmistress but Cordelia’s arms, now free from the swamp witch’s grasp, wrapped around the younger woman and kept her there.

“Misty.” All of the relief, and gratitude and tenderness lay in those two syllables as Cordelia brushed a few stray bedraggled strands of hair from Misty’s face. They could go back later.

“Delia.” Misty retorted as she settled in the woman’s arms and muttered: “Don’t let them summon shit again.”


End file.
